


Thirty Years

by kitkatkaylie



Series: Jonmund Week 2020 [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Jonmund Week 2020, M/M, So fluffy it might make your teeth hurt, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Jon had not expected to live to an old age, but now he was older than his father ever was. He was happier than his father was too, with his husband and direwolf by his side.Written for Day 7 of Jonmund Week 2020: Anniversaries
Relationships: Tormund Giantsbane/Jon Snow
Series: Jonmund Week 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673965
Comments: 4
Kudos: 84





	Thirty Years

There had been times in his life when Jon had not expected to live until his hair turned grey, times where he had expected to die with a sword in his hands defending those he loved. There had even been a time where he had expected to die as his father did, his head taken in recompense for his supposed treasons, but his sisters had prevented that by riding to a city they had sworn never to return to.

But now his hair was grey, a few strands of the black it had once been remaining, but overall, the same grey as was on his family’s banners.

He was older now than his father ever was.

Tormund was even older, no trace of fiery red remained in his hair or beard, and he had been joining hunting parties less and less since taking an injury to his knee. Even Ghost was old, no longer capable of running for hours as he had in his youth, although he was still as fearsome as ever.

The truth was undeniable, despite all the odds they had got old.

Jon woke up properly when he realised that the side of the bed next to him was cold. Cold enough that Tormund must have left it quite some time before, not simply have left it to relieve himself.

A low, excited huff from Ghost dragged his attention to the door, as did the heavy thump of Ghost’s tail against the wood of the floor. His wolf only got so excited for Tormund and Jon’s siblings, and he highly doubted any of them would be in the True North without him knowing, so it must have been Tormund returning to make him react so.

His husband re-entered their small home, a carved tray in his hands and a bright grin on his face.

“There you are Little Crow!” Tormund said, “As pretty today as you were the day I met you.”

A faint flush filled Jon’s cheeks at the compliment, “Is there something special about today that I forgotten for you to speak such untruths to me?”

“Its been thirty years since you chose to join me, thirty years since we said our vows to each other. Tormund said, “Thirty years since we declared to the Old Gods that we would not be parted from one another again.”

Jon pushed himself up so he was sitting against the headboard and took the tray from his husband’s arms.

“So you brought me breakfast in bed.” He smiled lovingly, “Thank you.”

Tormund looked almost bashful as he ran a hand through his snowy hair, “Its not much, not like a fine lord could give you.”

Even after being married for three decades his husband still had moments of doubt as to whether Jon would be happier in a castle instead of a Free Folk village, it was sweet really, that Tormund cared so much for him.

“Its perfect.” Jon reassured him.

And truthfully it was, he had no need for finery and fancy foods. No need for impractical silks and to be waited on hand and foot. No, Jon was content with his husband and his direwolf by his side, as they had been for so very many years.

The tray was loaded with enough for two people, pottage and fruit conserves and goats’ cheese. A wider selection than they normally had, meaning Tormund must have traded with others in their village for some of it.

“I cleared the day for the two of us.” Tormund said as he climbed back into bed next to Jon, “We have no chores for today. Instead I thought you might like to wander into the woods for a hunt where it does not matter if we return empty handed.”

Jon swallowed his mouthful of food before answering, “That sounds lovely.”

It really did. It would be nice to have a day where they could just exist in each other’s company, one where there were no worries about chopping firewood or watching over the village’s children.

They ate together in companionable silence, there was no need for them to fill the space between them with words, not when they could just exist together.   
By the time the meal was finished, Jon’s eyes were growing heavy again and he curled up into Tormund’s side. His husband wrapped a warm arm around him and together they moved so they were under the blankets and furs properly, they had a lovely day planned, but it could wait a few hours more.

Even after thirty years Jon still treasured the chance to sleep wrapped up in Tormund’s arms. 


End file.
